


Seppun

by NoelleAngelFyre



Series: Utsutsu No Yume [5]
Category: Tokyo Mew Mew
Genre: (It's established to Pudding), Candy Drops, F/M, Family Feels, Family Fluff, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gentle Kissing, Kissing with an audience, Meet the Family, Reunions, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, established relationship (sort of)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-19 12:57:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22411381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoelleAngelFyre/pseuds/NoelleAngelFyre
Summary: Pudding introduces Taruto to the family...with mixed results.
Relationships: Fong Pudding & Tart, Fong Pudding/Tart
Series: Utsutsu No Yume [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1220855
Kudos: 21





	Seppun

“There have to be, like, dozens in here.”

“Uh huh.” She’s flat on her belly, stretched across the vibrantly-colored bedspread with both legs hoisted and crossed at the ankle; the position hides how long her legs are now, seven years later, “One for every year, plus a couple extra here, a few more there…”

Taruto looks up from the box with exasperation and poorly-concealed amusement battling it out on his face, “Okay, girl, you do know you’re crazy, right?”

“Uh huh!” even more chipper on this agreement than the last, Pudding flips herself backwards off the bed, then executes a strange twirl to close the distance and drape arms over his neck. Personal space never was her thing. “The best people are, you know.”

“…Is that a fact?”

“Well, it’s my opinion, so…close enough.” She kisses the tip of his nose, then cartwheels back to the door, “Now, come downstairs – you need to meet them!”

“Who is—?” and the rest of the question makes an abrupt departure as Pudding decides he’s taking too long, or so he assumes by the way she backsteps, grabs his hand, and more or less catapults him down the stairs. Gravity, or the lacking effect it has on him, prevents what would undoubtedly be a painful landing.

The answer as to who ‘they’ are comes with the thundering of multiple feet down a short hallway, and suddenly Taruto finds himself facing a small crowd of four boys and one girl. The former all bear identical features while the latter is a younger version of Pudding. In…almost every…single…possible…way.

“ _Onee-chan_ , who is this?”

“He’s dressed funny!”

“His ears are so big!”

“Can I play with them??”

“Knock it off, you guys,” Pudding says, stepping in to part the gathered, “he’s not a jungle gym.” So good of her to notice, ten minutes AFTER the kids were using him as one, “His name is Taruto, and he’s a very special friend. So be nice.”

“Nice to meet you, Taruto!”

“Are you going to stay with us?”

“Are you _onee-chan_ ’s boyfriend?”

“That’s not what a ‘special friend’ means!”

“Well, it COULD!”

“She didn’t say it was!”

“She didn’t say it wasn’t!!”

A sharp whistle comes about two seconds before Taruto suffers an anxiety attack, a panic attack, and then just outright dies from embarrassment. “Alright, you nosy geese,” Pudding stands with hands framed on both hips, but the stern posture falls short with amusement cracking one side of her mouth, “he’s only been here for an hour. Save the interrogation for later.”

“But, _onee-chan_ ,” the little girl turns up the pout with big brown eyes, “IS he your boyfriend?”

“Yes,” Pudding answers, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and Taruto would be much obliged if the floor would just swallow him up right now and so spare him the looks from all four boys – like he now became Enemy Number One, “and now I believe you all have some homework to do?”

The statement at least evacuates the hallway, albeit with some very animated chatter that bounces off the walls and hits his ears like an obnoxious bell. He doesn’t have a mirror on hand, but between the heat across his cheeks and the satisfied smirk Pudding is wearing, his face must be a fetching shade of red.

“WHAT,” he manages, once the chatter dies down and he’s vaguely confident they are alone, “was THAT about?”

“What was what about?” she bats her eyes all innocently, like she doesn’t know exactly what he’s talking about.

“T…th…THAT!” he waves an arm in the general direction of empty space, which only darkens his cheeks and widens her smirk (she’s enjoying this…), “What did you—why did you—what IS a special friend? What is a BOYfriend??”

Her amusement starts to drop, probably when she realizes he isn’t just rambling like an idiot, and her head tips to one side like a bird Taruto saw the other night. Strands of honey fall in her eyes. Not for the first time, he thinks her hair is longer. Or at least, she wears it different: the tiny braids are gone, and it looks wilder, even more untamed, than before. Like she’s eternally wind-blown, even in her own house.

“You don’t have ‘special friends’ back home?” she asks curiously. When he continues to stare with (he’s sure) a singularly stupid expression, the sides of her mouth start to twitch back in amusement, “How else do you end up married?”

The heat blooms across his face with such intensity that he briefly fears for his life. “I-I—!” he sputters like a total idiot for about ten minutes, then physically slaps himself out of it. Pudding’s eyes widen in alarm and she quickly covers the offended cheek with a cool hand.

“Don’t do that, silly.” She chides; the thumb runs under his eye in a careful motion, and the heat runs down the back of his neck to pool somewhere in his belly, “Anyway,” she continues, like her hand isn’t still on his face and she is very much in his personal space, “that’s what a ‘special friend’, or a boyfriend, is.”

“A mate?” he blurts out the word and her eyebrows go up.

“Okay, sure. If that’s what you call it.” She pauses, then breaks into giggles, “But let’s not use that word around them, okay?” she nods down the hall, “It has…different meanings around here.”

“So, what? I’m your special friend?”

“No, silly. You’re my boyfriend.” A pause, and then she gives him another smirk: this one should be outlawed, because it makes him feel funny inside, “Not that you’re much of a ‘boy’ anymore.”

He stands straight up, to his full height, and crosses both arms over his chest, “No, thank you, I am NOT.”

Her smile – smirk, whatever it is – doesn’t fade. “I think you’re right, then: ‘mate’ does sound better.”

Taruto opens his mouth. Nothing comes out. Nothing coherent beyond a muffled noise which absolutely was nothing less than masculine in nature as Pudding leans in and presses her lips to his. She smells like peppermint, like cake, like the forest. Candy, baked sweets, and the Earth: everything he’s catalogued for seven years as being her. Uniquely, completely, entirely, HER.

His arms are around her waist, hers are around his neck, and they just ignore the giggling behind them.

**Author's Note:**

> "Seppun" = Japanese word for "kiss"
> 
> This one's short, but it's overflowing with fluff. Feel the fluff. Love the fluff. Don't get a cavity. :)
> 
> Reviews are love. I own nothing.


End file.
